Living a Lie (43 page)

There was one large, tastefully furnished bedroom, and a small bathroom, tiled from top to bottom in soft grey tiles, with a carpet to match.

“I could live here myself,” Kitty declared.

“It’s like something out of a magazine.”

The shopkeeper was delighted.

“My wife is the one with the taste,” he said.

“Give me an old sofa and a pair of slippers and I’m happy as Larry.”

“Will I meet her?” Georgie asked.

He grinned from ear to ear.

“I reckon you’ve already met her, ain’t yer? She’s the one who said you had a tongue like a sewer rat.”

When he saw their faces fall, he assured them, “She don’t often make her way here, and even if she did, I’m the one in charge of letting the flat, and I say if you want it, it’s yours. Pay three months in advance and you can move in whenever you like.”

Terms were discussed and Kitty got out her cheque book.

“We’ll pay six months in advance if that’s all right,” she said. At the back of her mind was the idea that it might take all of six months for Georgie to get herself organised. Meanwhile Kitty didn’t want her to feel that if she hadn’t secured a job and the money to carry on with the rent, she might be thrown out on the streets again.

“You ain’t got a job going, have you?” Georgie asked the shopkeeper, “I’m good on the till, and I don’t mind getting up early of a morning to see to the paper round.”

“As a matter of fact, I just might be able to put a few early-morning hours your way,” he answered, ‘but the pay ain’t much. The shop isn’t a gold mine and, thanks to the missus, I’ve got a new mortgage round my neck. “

Georgie was thrilled.

“It’s a start,” she told Kitty.

“That’s all I need, a start.”

For the next two hours they traipsed the shops, buying towels and linen and anything Georgie might need in her new home.

“I

can’t believe it. ” Georgie gave Kitty a big grateful squeeze.

“What did I do to deserve a friend like you, eh

“It works both ways,” Kitty reminded her as they went to have a scone and tea at a corner cafe. For a while she was deep in thought. They had found Georgie a place to stay, but there was still the moneylender to deal with and she would be on pins until Jack turned up. What if he should change his mind? After all, twelve thousand pounds was a small fortune.

Friday morning came, and so did Jack. Tired and irritated after his long drive, he swept into the foyer and thumped his fist on the desk.

“Mr. Jack Harpur for Kitty Marsh. Let her know I’m here,” he instructed, and the clerk took an instant dislike to him.

The three of them sat in the lounge, Jack stretched out in a big soft armchair, Kitty seated next to him on the edge of a settee, and Georgie next to her, nervous and anxious.

“I’m sorry to be such a burden,” she told him.

“It’s reallly good of you to let me have the money, but it’s only a matter of time before I pay you back, I promise.”

Jack gave her a frosty look.

“Best not to make promises you can’t keep,” he said.

“But no matter, because I’m really doing this for Kitty, so I don’t want the money back.” He looked at Kitty as much as to say, “I’m having her instead’. But he merely smiled and touched her hand; his smile fading when Kitty visibly cringed. The incident did not go unnoticed by Georgie.

While they chatted, the morning sped by. Jack treated them to lunch in the main dining room. Georgie ate heart390

ily and Jack too had a healthy appetite, but Kitty merely picked at her food. She had other things on her mind. Soon she would be standing before God making her promises to a man she could never love. Yet she would do it, because she had given her word, and Jack had kept his.

In the afternoon, Jack went to the bank, and Kitty took Georgie round the shops again.

“You need some new clothes,” she said. And she needed to put a distance between her and Jack, at least for the time being.

At five minutes to eight Kitty and Jack made their way down to the foyer. Georgie wanted to accompany them, but Kitty asked her not to.

“There’s no need for you to face him,” she said.

“Let me and Jack deal with it.” Georgie knew it made sense.

The moneylender was already waiting as they came into the foyer.

Addressing Kitty, he demanded, “Got the money, have you?”

Jack moved forward and took the fellow by the lapels.

“Watch your mouth, you creepy bastard!” he hissed, pushing him backwards until he fell into an armchair.

“The money’s here.” He raised the briefcase.

“But first, I want any papers that were signed.”

The man sneered.

“I’ve got them here.” He patted his breast pocket.

“We’re not criminals, you know… just honest blokes trying to make a living.”

Kitty spoke calmly, though she could easily have hit out at him.

“Whether you’re a criminal or not is a matter for discussion,” she said. Turning to Jack she said, “Wait a minute. Don’t hand anything over just yet.” As she walked away she heard the fellow complaining about how he hadn’t got time to waste ‘buggering about’.

When Kitty returned with the hotel manager. Jack was puzzled. The moneylender guessed her intention.

“No need for any of this,” he said.

“Oh, I think there is,” she answered. At the desk she had explained what was going on to the manager, and though he was indignant that such a transaction should take place in his hotel, he was even more indignant about the moneylender’s trade.

“I’m well aware of what’s going on here,” he told him in a hostile voice.

“Let this be the last time you set foot in this establishment.”

It took only a few minutes to make the transaction. When he was certain that the amount of money tallied with what he had to collect, the moneylender gave up the papers that Mac and Georgie had signed.

Satisfied, he was about to leave when Kitty called him back.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Without a word he reached into his breast pocket and produced a printed receipt-pad. After scribbling the date and sum received, he handed it to her.

“You’re wasting your time anyway,” he declared with a wry little smile.

“They’ll be back for more. Once we have them in our clutches, they always come back.”

“Not this time,” Kitty said, putting the receipt in her handbag alongside the papers.

“I think you’ll find you’ve seen the last of this little source of income.” She hoped so. Dear God, she hoped so!

But, with Georgie, you could never be sure.

On Saturday, Georgie moved into her new home.

“Normally I would want to clear the cheque,” the shopkeeper said, ‘but I trust you. You’ve got an honest face. ” His remark was directed at Kitty.

After the groceries were unloaded, Jack was eager to be away.

“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us,” he moaned, “I don’t like travelling the motor ways in the dark.”

“Take care of yourself,” Kitty told Georgie.

“I won’t let you down,” she promised.

“And I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.”

She gave her heartfelt thanks to Jack who hinted, “I’m a businessman.

If I pay out, I expect something to show for it. “

At first Georgie took that to mean he expected her to prosper with the excellent start she’d been given. But after he and Kitty climbed into the car and she was waving them away, she caught sight of Kitty’s face peering out of the window. It was a sad face, a face that told a story, and it set her thinking.

Kitty had little to say on the way home. She felt desperately unhappy. Wasn’t it strange how life turned out? she thought. She and Georgie had come a long way since the children’s home. Now she was going back to a life of luxury, while Georgie was settling into a flat above a news paper shop. And, as the car carried her away from Georgie and nearer to the day of her wedding, Kitty would gladly have changed places.

The phone had been ringing some minutes when Harry came into his office. Throwing off his mac, he grabbed up the receiver.

“Jenkins’ Haulage.” It always gave him a rush of pride when he said that.

There was a slight pause at the other end, before a man’s voice crackled over the line.

“Harry? Harry, is that you?”

Harry recognised the voice as belonging to one of his main customers.

“Mike!” Harry was relieved.

“Am I glad to hear your voice! I’ve been trying to get hold of you all week.”

Based in the south of England, Michael Norden owned a string of garages throughout the country. Against more established hauliers, Harry had won the contract for distributing spare parts far and wide.

“What’s the urgency, mate?” As a rule Michael Norden was friendly and chatty. This time he seemed impatient, almost irritated.

“I still haven’t had this month’s despatch sheets,” Harry told him.

“Is there a problem?”

Taking the phone with him, he sat in the chair behind the desk. He was shivering with cold. The weather had taken a turn for the worse. All night it had been pouring with rain, and since four o’clock that morning he had been up to his neck in axle grease and filth. One of his drivers had called him out after a breakdown on a country lane in the middle of nowhere.

“What with one thing and another, I’m late in planning the schedule,” he explained, ‘so I need those sheets like yesterday. “

“Late in planning your schedule? It sounds to me like it’s you that’s got the problem.”

Harry was not about to confess he had lost contracts that had been his bread and butter.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he affirmed.

“I can take the schedule over the phone now, and you can send the paperwork on. I’ll get the deliveries out today. One of the lorries is in dock right now, but I’ve another returning this afternoon. If needs be, I’ll do the job myself.”

He picked up a pencil and began scribbling.

“If I remember rightly, you were waiting on a delivery to the Cambridge depot? It would have been done by now, but like I say, I couldn’t get hold of you, and no one seemed to know where you were.” He laughed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were giving me the runaround.”

The silence at the other end set off warning bells in his mind. In a worried voice, he said, “Mike? What’s going on?” Still no answer.

“All right. Out with it. Am I still on your books or what?” His jaw worked in anger. There was something funny happening lately, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Answer me, Mike. Do you want the job done or don’t you?”

“It’s not up to me. Harry.”

“What do you mean, it’s not up to you? It’s your com398

pany, isn’t it? Who the hell else is it up to? “

“I have to answer to the bank, you know that.”

“As we all do,” Harry retaliated, trying to inject some humour into the situation.

“You can’t tell me you’re getting some other haulier to do it cheaper than I do? Christ! If I did it any cheaper, I’d have to pedal the stuff about.”

“Sorry, mate. I’ve no more work for you.”

“Are you having me on?” It seemed inconceivable that this contract should be ended. He had never once let this man down, and always kept his rates trimmed to the bone to accommodate him.

“I’ve decided not to renew the contract.”

“And that’s it?” Harry couldn’t believe his ears.

“Can we sit round the table and discuss it?”

“Sorry, mate. I won’t be renewing your contract and that’s an end to it.” The phone was replaced and Harry was left looking into the receiver.

“What the hell’s going on?” Carefully replacing the receiver he went to the filing cabinet and took out a batch of papers.

Spreading them on the desk, he glanced through them.

“There’s something very strange about all this,” he muttered.

“That’s the third contract I’ve lost in as many weeks.”

Taking a towel from the cupboard, he rubbed his hair dry and poured out a measure of brandy. He needed to think rationally about this business, and for the minute he was both angry and confused.

“Calm down, Jenkins,” he told himself.

“Don’t go jumping to any conclusions.

There has to be an explanation. “

After a while he began to thaw. He worked on his ledgers and balanced his books ready for the accountant, and even there he could see how drastically his orders had dropped. Another thing was the silence. Lately, the phone didn’t ring either.

“It’s like I’ve got the bloody plague!”

When the Tautliner returned at five o’clock he waited until the driver had gone home then locked up the office and checked the yard before making his own way home.

“A hot bath and a good meal,” he sighed.

“Afterwards I’ll try and work out what to do.”

One thing he did know, he would have to watch the pennies for the time being. Thanks to Susan’s extravagant style of living, money was pouring out, and less of it was coming in. That was disaster to any business. And right now, it was the business he was most concerned with.

Not wanting to worry Susan unnecessarily, he kept his main fears from her, though he did tell her she might have to forgo the idea of her latest new toy.

“You’re talking a lot of money,” he explained, ‘and you don’t really need it. Leave it for a few months. We can talk about it then. “

She greeted the suggestion with rage.

“Why can’t I change my car for a new one?” she demanded.

“Anybody would think we were counting our pennies.”

As usual there was no meal on the table; nothing cooking in the oven.

It didn’t bother Harry. He had become used to looking after himself.

In fact, he preferred it. That way he didn’t feel obliged to her.

“I’m talking to you,” she snapped.

“Why can’t I change my old car?” As he crossed the room, she followed him.

“I’ve already ordered it.

You’ll make me look a fool if I cancel it now. “

He was cold to the bone, his stomach rumbling with hunger, and what with the contracts being cancelled one after the other and not knowing the reason behind it,